Feeling like a train wreck just out of sight, Fuoco are an utterly dangerous beast. With ‘Kape Kinevil’, freshly birthed like a xenomorph from the chest of brand-new M8s Records, they’ve evolved from an angry noise grunge duo to a ferocious and terrified bull, tearing everything up in sight that makes them uncomfortable. Which is a lot. Guitar-slinging brother in rock James Gale said ‘I guess the EP is blossoming into adulthood, and being resentful of all the people you care about.’ And that’s not hard when you grew up in Kent, the garden/arsehole of England. Opening track ‘Where Am I?’ immediately showcases their evolution from the first EP, 2014’s ‘Perverted Gaze’. This time, they build and build, brooding psychedelics and slashing feedback, testing the limits of how much can be achieved with just a duo. When James’ vocals come in, his drawl scratches out from the back of his throat. By the end of his track he’s reduced to whimpering ‘I’m not okay’ as everything around him comes to a halt. So when smash hit single ‘Drink Your Tears’ comes yelping into life, riding between barked vocals and their most angular, post-punk riff yet, there is no escape. It carries their most poppy chorus yet, which does not say a lot for their chart-topping intentions, and soon crashes into a thrashing, foaming nod to Nirvana’s ‘Negative Creep’. ‘I’m Going To Fucking Kill You’ shows the merits of the raw production, the harsh, buzzsaw riff feeling even colder against the stark backdrop. An acidic slow burn that builds and builds to an unstoppable onslaught of stoner rock anger, like The Wytches on ket, or Slaves if they were good. ‘Older Man’ is a trembling behemoth of dead-eyed ‘choruses’ and thundering guitar tones that abruptly stops for a nice interlude of wanky guitar fretwork messing that bursts into a bloody, frightening crescendo of a noise rock massacre, splayed, twitching limbs, and closer ‘Hunt’ is just left on its own to revisit every terrible, terrifying experience before slamming the door shut. What’s unfortunate is that this isn’t a live show. Because only when you witness Fuoco live, with the throat-scraping screams and bodily injuries and swung instruments, can you truly understand them.